


With all of my benevolence there's still no obedience

by surlelac



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - All Fandoms
Genre: Barton needs a hug, Character turned into a child, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/372240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surlelac/pseuds/surlelac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Phil knew was that he came back from his away mission and Barton was 8 years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With all of my benevolence there's still no obedience

All Phil knew was that he came back from his away mission and Barton was 8 years old. According to Fury, it had happened the night before and they were still trying to figure out exactly what had happened.

He was so happy, chattering with everyone who came near him and asking more questions than it was possible to answer. What made the contrast with his older self so stark wasn’t how loud and bubbly he was, but how open those questions were. They weren’t needling or teasing as usual; they were open, curious, and _innocent_. Barton actually answered the questions he got in return - honestly and openly.

That was how Natasha found out Barton didn’t like staying overnight in the medbay. Apparently there was a creaking sound in the vents and he thought there was a monster. She insisted he go home with Coulson, Stark was not to be trusted near an underage Barton due to the mayhem they could (and did) cause, so the mansion was out, and she trusted Phil to protect Barton from himself and from whatever had changed him. 

It probably didn’t hurt that Barton had been following him around wide eyed from the moment he saw Phil punch out a HYDRA agent in the video footage Phil had shown to Fury during the debriefing.

Phil let him explore the apartment as he cooked them some pasta for dinner, just warning him not to break anything. Barton came crashing into the kitchen when Phil set dinner on the table, sliding on his socks and barely catching himself before he slid into the table. It was impossible to hide his smile in response to the sheepish look on Barton’s face.  
“Be careful,” Phil murmured as he began to eat. 

The dinner was pretty uneventful after that, besides Barton entertaining him by telling him wild stories of what he would do when he grew up to be as ‘badass as Mr. Phil’. He helped with the dishes without waiting to be asked; carefully putting them on the drying rack like looking at them the wrong way would break them. 

Once he yawned, Phil decided it was time to put him to bed. “Come on, bed.” He shooed Barton in the direction of his room, not entirely surprised that he protested. The reason he protested, however, shocked him. 

“I- Mr. Phil, I can’t take your bed. I’ll-” he was cut off by a yawn. “I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s okay it looks comfy. As long as I have a blanket- wait is it okay if I have a blanket? I don’t wanna take yours-”

He looked so _earnest_ and upset that he might be kicking Phil out of his bed that it had Phil momentarily speechless. 

“You’re taking the bed.” Phil managed to keep it together through the rest of the protests and the typical childhood complaining of not being tired while yawning his head off. After Barton was tucked in (literally, apparently he liked to have the blanket as tight around him as he could have it), Phil collapsed on the couch, his face in his hands. 

The fact that a _child_ would think that he wouldn’t even be allowed to have a blanket was heartbreaking. He knew that Barton had had an abusive childhood, had seen in his file everything he had gone through, but it didn’t hit home until now how bad it had been. His head thudded against the back of the couch. He wanted to find Barton’s parents (it didn’t matter that they were dead) and hurt them. Barton as a child was so eager to please, so happy, and that they had had a hand in crushing him made Phil want to kill them.

As the days went on, Phil got used to Barton following him around SHIELD headquarters, asking questions and being far more intuitive than most kids his age should be. He found himself sitting on the couch in his office with Barton curled up against his side far more than he ever thought he would. Clint was a good kid, he didn’t mind having him there. In fact, he was easier to entertain as a child than as a human. Or an adult. Either one.

(Phil wasn’t that good with children before Barton.)

Eventually, though, he couldn’t remain in his office and had to accompany the Avengers on a mission. He told Clint to remain in his office (not that he really expected obedience) and went off to do his job. It ended relatively well, with only a few buildings being destroyed and some minor injuries. The worst was a civilian who had gotten his leg broken and, embarrassingly enough, Phil himself. He had gotten clipped in the arm with a piece of flying masonry and was made to use a sling to prevent himself from stretching his arm too much. 

The lack of ability to fling his arm out almost made him fall when Clint slammed into him. The child clung to him, with his arms around his waist, his breath high and filled with worry at the prospect of Phil getting really hurt. 

It took him an hour to convince him he was _fine_. Helped by the promise of breakfast for dinner and a movie. 

Clint didn’t manage to stay awake for long into the movie, since the worry and crying had worn him out, and he slumped down with his head in Phil’s lap. Phil didn’t really want to move him and he was far too comfortable to deal with the inevitable argument about the bed. 

In the morning, Clint was an adult again. He woke Phil up when he jerked away, a shocked gasp escaping him. “Um,” he said, a blush growing on his cheeks and crawling down his neck. “Do you have clothes I could borrow?” He waved down to the torn t-shirt and pajama pants. 

Phil pulled out some clothes for Clint to change in to and left him in his room, going to the kitchen to make coffee. The entire time they were in the same room, Clint had remained quiet, his arms curled around his waist.

He was beginning to realize he was going to miss the happy, almost carefree child. 

Phil turned when Clint cleared his throat and held out a mug for the other man. Instead of taking it, though, Clint just rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I- I’m sorry, Phil. About everything. It was unprofessional, rude, and I swear, it won’t happen again. You shouldn’t have had to deal with all that.”

Phil blinked. “Ba-Clint. You were a child. It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes it is.” Clint’s voice was harsh. “Being a child is no excuse. At all.” He smiled crookedly. “I know how annoying I was when I was kid.”

“You weren’t annoying.” Phil reached out and rested his hand on Clint’s shoulder. “I didn’t mind - you were actually kind of cute.”

Clint’s mouth opened and no sound came out for a moment. “I was cute? No one-” He cut himself off and shook his head. “Let’s just get back to medical so I can get checked out and things can get back to normal.” He turned and walked to the door, letting himself out of the apartment, not caring that he had no shoes on. 

\--

Medical cleared Barton (it felt odd to mentally refer to him as Clint when apparently they weren’t talking anymore) after about a day and things had gone back to relative normality. Normal in the sense that Barton was once again on the Avengers and harassing his team mates. He no longer came to Phil’s office and tried to provoke him into giving up on his paperwork. 

Phil found he missed that more than anything else.

After a few weeks, he got too annoyed (or lonely, a small part of him whispered) to put up with being ignored anymore. After a few days with a lack of enemies to fight, he sought out Clint and invited him over to have breakfast for dinner and another movie, hopefully one that Clint wouldn’t fall asleep during. 

Hey, if Clint enjoyed breakfast for dinner as a child, he doubted he would hate it now. 

Dinner itself was a little awkward, since Clint was still trying to keep distance between them. Once they started the movie, though, Clint relaxed and partway through began to lean against Phil’s side. 

Not that Phil was really paying attention to the movie - he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Clint. It was a long time since he had seen adult him relaxed like this. Trusting everything around him to remain safe. 

He leaned forward and nuzzled Clint’s cheek without thinking about what he was doing. Instead of Clint pulling away, he turned slightly and made a questioning noise. Phil took the chance and kissed him softly, a pleased sound escaping him when Clint kissed him back. 

Maybe he would get to see him like this more often.


End file.
